


My Sweet Boy

by Abigail_Mikaelson



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, highkey a soft core porn more than anything
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-26
Updated: 2019-12-26
Packaged: 2021-02-26 11:01:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21968260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Abigail_Mikaelson/pseuds/Abigail_Mikaelson
Summary: Basically, a soft core porn, with some light emotion. And it’s Christmas.
Relationships: Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 2
Kudos: 95
Collections: Steter Secret Santa 2019





	My Sweet Boy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [gemjam](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gemjam/gifts).



> This is a gift for gemjam for this year’s Steter Secret Santa. It’s totally a couple days late. My bad. Regardless, I hope you like it my dude. Apologies now for any spelling or grammar mistakes.

It’s been three years. Three blissful years of happiness together. The pack was stable, as was the land. Their alpha hadn’t started out being pleased with their relationship, the age difference in the forefront of his mind making him think about Kate. He was won over in the end when he saw how well Stiles handled his uncle’s more psychotic tendencies. In the end, he thought, everything had finally worked out.

It’s Christmas Eve. Stiles has just stepped into his and Peter’s apartment after his shift at the station. Hehad picked up the newest deputy’s shift so he could spend the day with his newborn. Peter was nowhere to be seen at the moment. He’s probably still with the pack, Stiles thought as he padded down the hall to take a shower. The day hadn’t been bad, just long. He was glad to be home.

His phone chimed as Stiles removed his pants and he hurriedly retrieved it, knowing the awaiting message would be from Peter. Hello dearest, it read. I’ll be home soon. Take your time in the shower. I know you’ve been looking forward to one. I have a surprise for you. That last bit caught Stiles’ attention. What could Peter possibly have for him? He pondered as he stepped under the hot spray then groaned, his mind going blank as the powered jet of water hits his shoulders. The tense muscles loosened and he could feel the stress of the day ease away.

Stiles didn’t know how long he stood there under the spray, just enjoying how it hit his back and shoulders, before he actually began to wash himself. With the amount of money Peter had spent to ensure amazing water pressure and a showerhead with different spray settings, it was easy to get lost in the feeling of the water on his skin. He yawned, a sudden wave of tiredness washing over him. He chalked it up to having stood under the blessedly hot water for so long. He reluctantly shut off the water and stepped out of the shower, quickly drying off and wrapping his towel loosely around his waist to walk across the hall to their bedroom.

It was a good thing he had been given a heads up that Peter had been headed home because he barely flinched as he looked up and spotted the werewolf in question sitting propped up against the headboard. The older wolf allowed his eyes to wander over his mate’s lithe figure, nearly bared before him, and smirked. “Hello, Stiles,” he rumbled. “Enjoy your shower?” Stiles shook his head in feigned disbelief as he replied, “Don’t I always?”

The younger man walked the last few feet to the bed and began to crawl into it. Peter straightened his legs and patted his thighs in invitation. Stiles eagerly straddled his lap and slid his arms up the wolf’s chest to encircle his neck as Peter did the same around Stiles’ waist, settling his mate more firmly in his lap. Stiles looked coyly up through his lashes and gave him a small, coquettish smile. “I believe you mentioned having a surprise for me,” he whispered as he batted his eyes.

Peter ran one hand from Stiles’ waist and up his chest to lightly encircle that appetizing throat, just firmly enough to make his mate’s eyes flutter shut and his neck tilt to the side in offering. “I believe I did,” he agreed. “How would you feel about being bound tonight?” Stiles’ eye blinked open at that. They didn’t engage in Stiles being bound with more than Peter’s hands very often. The wolf liked to feel the delicate pulse in his wrists against his fingers whenever he could get them there when they did anything rough.

Stiles could literally count on one hand the number of times Peter had tied him up. It wasn’t for lack of interest on either of their parts. Peter usually wanted to make it a whole ordeal, an event that lasted several hours versus being held down in the moment to give their usual sex a little something extra. Stiles personally didn’t mind either way, knowing he was in for a mind blowing experience each time they got intimate. The hand at his throat tightened slightly before relaxing again, bringing him back to the present moment. 

“I would like that very much,” Stiles finally responded, huffing out a laugh at the other man’s obvious excitement over the prospect. Peter gave him a feral grin, lightly pushing his mate out of his lap and back onto the bed before he moved to the side of the mattress and stood. “Wait here,” Peter called back as he walked out of the bedroom, as if Stiles had even thought about doing anything else. The younger man chuckled and relaxed into the bedspread. Peter had insisted on an insanely high thread count and the result was a crazy smooth bedspread which he had come to appreciate.

The wolf was back in less than a minute, holding their special toy chest and a set of multi-colored Christmas lights was looped over one of his arms. Stiles was beckoned to the foot of the bed, where he eagerly sat and waited for further instruction. “Alright, sweet boy,” Peter began with a light stroke to his lover’s jaw, “turn around for me, on your knees. I want your shoulders against the bed, your arms behind your back and that gorgeous ass high in the air.” Stiles hurried to comply, getting into the requested position and then arching his back to present himself the way he knew Peter loved. He felt Peter slipping the length of the lights around and around his wrists and arms before slipping the end into one of Stiles’ hands. In the other hand, a small, smooth object was slipped into the palm.

The toy chest let out a small creak as its lid was lifted and Stiles could hear its items being shuffled around as Peter searched for exactly what he wanted. A small “aha!” was let out and the chest was closed again and sat on the floor, out of the way but well within reach if either of them changed their minds and wanted something else from inside. Stiles writhed in nervous anticipation. It didn’t matter how many times they had done this; there was always this nagging feeling that Peter would somehow find him inadequate. 

Warm palms ran up the backs of his trembling thighs and he could feel the brush of lips against the base of his spine before they pressed firmer into a kiss. From there they moved up,kisses trailed up his spine as Peter knelt up on the bed behind him. Any tension Stiles held was gone by the time Peter’s lips had made it to the nape of his neck. “My sweet boy,” was whispered against his skin as the kisses began working along his neck and shoulders. “So wonderful, so perfect for me. Fuck, I wish you could see yourself the way I do.”

Stiles burrowed his head further into the bed at that. He had always seen himself as too thin. Too spastic. Too out of control. Compared to him, Peter was strong. He was muscular, gorgeous. But Peter never saw him that way. He always made sure to tell Stiles how perfect he was. How strong. How sweet. How loving. How amazing. It overwhelmed him at times but Peter never failed at ensuring that Stiles knew what he meant to him.

Slick, gentle fingers trailed up the younger man's inner thigh before lightly circling his hole. Stiles hands twitched where they were bound against his forearms as those fingers slowly pressed into him, one after another, leaving him gasping at the pressure inside him and the weight of his lover over him. While he took his time to ease his fingers in, Peter continued to whisper praise along his mate’s skin. He rarely ever had anything but praise for his sweet boy and when he did it was part of a fantasy that they had discussed beforehand. 

Stiles whimpered as Peter added a third finger and began spreading them out as he eased them in and out slower than he usually did. “Fuck, Peter, please,” the boy begged. “Need you, please, need you in me.” He felt the wolf’s lips curl into a smile at his shoulder as he removed his fingers achingly slow. Blunt pressure pressed where thick fingers had just been and slowly but unrelentingly pushes inside. He purposely went slower than Stiles wanted, if only to be sure that he wasn’t injured. 

Stiles tried to rear back, to fully encase Peter’s dick, but firm hands on his hips kept him exactly where the wolf wanted him. “Not so fast baby boy,” he chided. “We are going to take things slow tonight.” The human moaned into the covers. They hadn’t been intimate in a couple weeks and he was already overwhelmed and close to coming. He had a feeling that Peter knew it too. “Peter please,” he begged again. “I need it. I can’t - can’t hold it, please. Touch me please, need to come.”

Peter ran a soothing hand up his sweet boys spine and back down again as he shushed him. “No no sweetheart. We’re gonna go nice and slow, just like this,” his words punctuated with deliciously slow rolls of his hips. “You’ll take what I give you, just like my sweet boy always does. And when you’re ready, you’ll come on my dick like a good boy, won’t you?” At that, Stiles whimpered and trembled. Peter always knew what to say to build him right up to the edge. His voice shook as he replied, “Yes, daddy.”

“Good boy,” his wolf praised. “My good, sweet little boy.” Peter kept him on the edge for almost two hours, only repositioning their bodies to change the angle of his thrusts or to ease the strain on his baby boys legs. He never sped up but he never stopped either. They eventually ended up almost flat on the bed. Peter pressed tight against his back, but never interrupting the sinuous roll of his hips, was a comforting weight to Stiles. He could feel himself tensing as he neared his climax and his wolf’s arms came up to slide slide between the bed and his body and encircle his shoulders.

“Peter please,” the young man whimpered, “I’m so close.” The wolf angled his thrusts to brush against his mate’s prostate on every inward stroke and was rewarded with the boy’s body tightening almost painfully around him as the boy came to the brink of orgasm. He pressed a kiss against the mating mark on the younger man’s neck and replied, “You may come whenever you like, little love. It’s alright.” Stiles sobbed as he finally, finally, tipped over the edge and came. His mind went completely blank and he felt like he was floating in a different plane, which now that he knew what he did about the supernatural could definitely have been a thing that was actually happening. 

Stiles vaguely registered Peter pulling out and coming over his ass and thighs before rearing back to sit on his thighs. He could feel the wolf’s spend being wiped away with the discarded towel from his shower and his arms being freed and gently massaged. He was briefly lifted, being turned and laid on his back, then covered with the duvet and tucked in. A bottle of water was pressed to his lips and he drank until he couldn’t keep his eyes open. He knew if he fell asleep, his lover wouldn’t get upset. So he did and his wolf ensured he was comfortable before getting up to grab one last thing out of the toy chest.

Peter pressed a kiss to his sleeping mate’s forehead and sat the ring box on the bedside table where he knew Stiles would see when he awoke in the morning. The younger man’s alarm clock told the wolf it was well past midnight. “Merry Christmas, my darling love.”


End file.
